It's been far too long since I shared anything from my beloved Emily Dickinson.
Here's hoping your life is full of the thing with feathers.
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| Photo credit: Stephanie Berghaeuser, FreeImages.com |
Hope is the thing with feathers
Emily Dickinson
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I’ve heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
~~~~~
7 comments:
So lovely to read Emily's words today. Timeless and beautiful! Happy Mother's Day weekend. :)
As I read all the poems today, many are about hope, and then you share this one, Karen. Perhaps it's a universal thing that we humans are forever hoping for something good. Thanks for sharing it, always lovely.
I love Emily's poetry so much, thanks for sharing this one.
Jama, Linda, and Sarah, it's a joy to share some hope with you today! :)
Even though she is heard "sweetest in the gale," I love catching snippets of her song as I watch the trees fill out with new leaves, and the calendar days tick off in the count towards the end of the school year (for the teachers as much as the students!!).
We're counting down the days here, too, Mary Lee. :)
I love this one (and one of my very favorite bands put it to music), but I disagree with her. Hope can be very, very costly.
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